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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843247">try explaining a life bundled with episodes of this</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinatingbookworm/pseuds/procrastinatingbookworm'>procrastinatingbookworm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Little Beast (Jonah Week 2020) [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BDSM, Breathplay, M/M, Size Difference, Size Kink, Trans Jonah Magnus, Trans Male Character, Under-negotiated Kink, don't be like jonah, negotiate before you scene and practice safe kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:07:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinatingbookworm/pseuds/procrastinatingbookworm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Jonah kept half his awareness on Mordechai the rest of the time they sat together, waiting for his grip to tighten, but it didn’t.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Mordechai just held him, possessive and quiet. His hand was so massive that with his thumb on one side of Jonah’s neck, his fingers curled all the way around the other side. If he wanted to hurt Jonah, he would find it very easy.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>But he didn’t.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mordechai Lukas/Jonah Magnus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Little Beast (Jonah Week 2020) [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jonah Magnus Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>try explaining a life bundled with episodes of this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It started with a tugging.</p><p>Jonah turned around, a sentence dying in his mouth as he felt a pull on his cravat. “What?”</p><p>Mordechai shrugged tellingly, unhooking his fingertips from the back of Jonah’s collar.</p><p>Jonah shrugged, shifting on the sofa so that he was leaning closer to Mordechai’s side, and turned his attention back to Robert Smirke. “What was I saying? Oh, yes, at what exact point do you find the Slaughter and Flesh to overlap? There are certainly themes shared between the two…”</p><p>-</p><p>Jonah didn’t think twice about the tugging, even when it happened more than once. Mordechai was a man flippant in his gestures and subtle in his tells, and Jonah wasn’t particularly known for his ability to pick up on nonverbal cues.</p><p>Still, when the tugging progressed to a hand laid on the back of Jonah’s neck, nearly wrapped around his throat from behind, as though he was planning to pick Jonah up like a disobedient kitten—<em> that </em>, Jonah noticed.</p><p>“Mordechai,” Jonah said, looking up from the novel he was reading, rolling his neck against the solid grip on it. “If you want my attention, all you need to do is ask.”</p><p>Mordechai, as with the tugging, didn’t reply. He just left his hand there. Jonah shrugged, leaned his weight back onto Mordechai’s arm, and went back to his book.</p><p>He kept half his awareness on Mordechai the rest of the time they sat together, waiting for his grip to tighten, but it didn’t.</p><p>Mordechai just held him, possessive and quiet. His hand was so massive that with his thumb on one side of Jonah’s neck, his fingers curled all the way around the other side. If he wanted to hurt Jonah, he would find it very easy.</p><p>But he didn’t.</p><p>- </p><p>Jonah was sitting in Mordechai’s lap, pliant, speared on two of Mordechai’s thick fingers, watching Barnabas and Jonathan kiss across the room, Jonathan’s hand down the front of Barnabas’ trousers.</p><p>From somewhere behind him and to his left, he could hear the <em> thwack </em> of Rayner’s cane on skin, elsewhere the whisper of rope on skin, everywhere the low murmurs of affection and pleasure and pain.</p><p>Jonah had just started to drift, borne aloft by the stretch of Mordechai’s fingers, the soothing rhythm in and out, the possessiveness of Mordechai’s breath on his neck, when a hand wrapped around his throat.</p><p>It was Mordechai’s hand—massive, and calloused, though well cared for, by virtue of being a rich man’s hand—Jonah didn’t even need to open his eyes to know that.</p><p>Mordechai wasn’t squeezing his throat particularly hard, so Jonah kept his eyes shut, unbothered. </p><p>This was the game—Mordechai made the choices, moved and pushed and posed Jonah where he wanted him, and Jonah only objected if he needed to tap out, which he generally didn’t.</p><p>Jonah soothed the instinctive flares of anxiety with the knowledge that Mordechai wouldn’t dare hurt him here. </p><p>Anyone who wasn’t currently engaged in similar interactions—and even those who were—watched out for everyone else in the room, especially those at a physical disadvantage.</p><p>So when Mordechai’s grip tightened, Jonah wasn’t afraid. When Mordechai turned in the chair, so Jonah was sitting on the seat, two fingers still inside him and the other hand around his throat, Jonah wasn’t afraid, but he did open his eyes.</p><p>When Mordechai settled on Jonah’s lap, his broad thighs framing Jonah’s petite, corseted waist, his weight oppressive but not <em> dangerous</em>, Jonah still wasn’t afraid.</p><p>Then Mordechai smiled.</p><p>Mordechai sucked Jonah’s slick from his fingers, still squeezing his throat, and Jonah’s breath caught and then stuck, and then he couldn’t <em> help </em> being afraid. </p><p>It was exquisite. </p><p>For once, Jonah could understand the thrill of the Vast; the plunge and whirl of utter breathlessness, the crushing pressure felt beneath the ocean, the absence of air high enough in the mountains, or above them, unmoored and drifting.</p><p>Jonah fell, and fell, and fell, and when he landed, when he came with an airless cry, Mordechai’s weight was still there to ground him, leaning against his chest and heavy on his thighs, but finally letting him breathe.</p>
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